The Forbidden Florist
by Lady Rathe
Summary: Draco's naked, Hagrid appears to be hoarding herrings, the centaurs have a B.O problem, and Voldemort is wearing red stilettos. Expect the worst.
1. Introduction

****

Introduction

Title:

'The Forbidden Florist'

****

Author:

Lady Rathe

****

Summary:

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Draco have detention. Nothing out of the ordinary, except Draco is naked, Hagrid appears to be hoarding herrings, the centaurs have a B.O problem and Voldemort is wearing red stilettos. Wackiness ensured. 

****

Before You Begin Reading:

You must know two things about me. One, I am British and two, I am armed with a frighteningly weird sense of humour. 

Now, this 'fic' came about because of a friend of mine who on several occasions during rapid speech, would fumble over the word 'forest' and would instead, end up saying: 'Forbidden _Florist_'. The images that formed in my mind were too delicious to ignore and so I wrote this story as a little present for her. 

She loved it and then decided to blackmail me until I put it up on fanfiction.net. I regret to say that I had to give in to these threats and that is the reason you are being subjected to this terrible piece of writing. Blame her, not me. 

****

Do Not Read If:

You are French.

You are a transvestite.

You are a huge Britney Spears fan.

You have no sense of humour.

All of the above. 

Well, actually, you _can_ read it, as long as you promise not to be offended. ^_^

****

A final note:

I LOVE Harry Potter and I _am_ a HP purist, but this story is terribley out of character.You'll find that the characters are either out of character or are in character whilst out of character if you get my meaning? I suppose not.

To put it in a nutshell, it's crap. K? 

****

Disclaimer:

This is an adaptation of the chapter 'The forbidden forest' in 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' by J.K Rowling.

I have also borrowed Monty Python's 'Lumberjack Song' and rearranged the words to use it for my own sordid purposes.

I own nothing, I owe everything. 

Onward…


	2. The Forbidden Florist

****

The Forbidden Florist

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furore over the points they'd lost. He half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night of fuc…I mean, revision lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they'd got. 

At eleven o'clock they said good-bye to Ron in their usual fashion and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there - and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had been a very naughty boy too. 

"Follow me." Said Filch , lighting a racoon's backside and leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again , wont you , eh?" He continued, leering hungrily at them, the racoon squealed with pain. "Oh yes…hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me…It's just a pity that they let the old punishments die out…handcuff you to a very uncomfortable bed for a few days, I've got the handcuffs still in my room, keep 'em well polished incase McGonagall ever drops by…right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept singing sea-chanteys under his breath. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted. 

Not too far ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout. 

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face…or elsewhere because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy - it's into the woods you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll come out without at least one feather boa." 

At this, Neville brought 'What shall we do with the drunken sailor', to a very abrupt end and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.

"The woods?" He repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there - there's all sorts of things in there - homosexuals I've heard." 

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and mumbled something which sounded a lot like, "Mmm, polyester." 

Hagrid came hopping towards them on his pogo stick, fang at his side. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of dead herrings hung over his ample shoulder. 

"Abou' time ," He said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. Alright Harry? Hermione?" 

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all." 

"That's why yer late , is it?" said Hagrid frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit. I'll take over from here." 

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them and their sexuality,' he added nastily, and he turned and started back towards the castle, his lighted racoon arse bobbing away in the darkness. 

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going into the woods," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

He led them to the very edge of the woods. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the woods. 

"Look there," said Hagrid, "See that stuff on the ground?" He pointed to several large tufts of blonde nylon hair. "That's hairs from a transvestite's wig. There's a transvestite in there bin badly malting or summat. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put him out of his misery."

Hermione gasped. "You mean…?" 

"Yeah." Said Hagrid gravely, "Hats." 

Harry, Hermione and Neville gasped and shook their heads sadly, as Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall could testify, there was absolutely _nothing_ funny about having to wear a hat. 

"And what if the transvestite finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's no one who lives in these woods who'll come onter yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail of nylon in diff'rent directions."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long…teeth, of course. 

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's all synthetic," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the transvestite, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now - that's it - an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh - so, be careful - let's go." 

The woods were black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path and Harry, Hermione and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville and Fang took the right. 

They walked in silence, following Hagrid on his pogo stick. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a tuft of blonde nylon on the fallen leaves. 

"GET BEHIND THAT TREE!" Hagrid said suddenly. He seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out a Herring and fitted it to into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was stepping on dead leaves nearby; it sounded like a pair of red stilettos; or at least, they _sounded_ red. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

The sound did not appear to reoccur, so Hagrid, Harry and Hermione continued their search for the transvestite, though most slowly and carefully. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved. 

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came - was it a centaur, or a pair of unwashed sweat-socks? To the waist, it was a man with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's bum with a long, reddish tail. Hermione and Harry immediately pinched their noses between their thumb and forefingers, as this creature happened to smell rather ripe. 

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

"Good evening to you Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "God, I really smell today, don't I?"

"This is Harry Potter an' Hermione Granger by the way," said Hagrid, trying to avoid Ronan's chosen topic of conversation, "students up from the school. An' this is Ronan, you two, he's a centaur with a B.O problem."

"We'd noticed." Said Hermione nasally. 

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students are you? And do you wash yourselves very often whilst you're up at the school?" 

"Erm - "

"Sometimes." Said Hermione timidly. 

"Sometimes? Well I bet you use deodorant to hide your lack of personal hygiene, don't you? You should wash more often or else you'll end up smelling like me." Ronan sighed. He lifted his arm and began sniffing his armpit. "Phew! Bloody hell I stink." 

"My toilet is huge." Said Hagrid suddenly. "Don't any of yeh try ter do anythin' in it 'cos you'll all jus' fall in and drown." 

There was a long, awkward pause as everyone stared at Hagrid. 

"Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan," Hagrid said, breaking the silence, "'cause there's a transvestite bin badly malting - you seen him/her/it around?" 

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He took a long, deep sniff at his armpit and sighed again. 

"Fucking hell, I smell like a sewage farm. No, I smell like refried beans mixed with horse shit. No, worse, I smell…I smell FRENCH!!" 

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen any malting transvestites about?" 

"Bloody hell I stink!" Ronan repeated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "I don't usually smell _this_ bad."

"So yeh haven't noticed any malting transvestite? " Hagrid continued. 

Before Ronan could answer, a movement in the trees behind him caused Hagrid to raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you have been showering regularly?"

"Regularly enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin Ronan, you seen a maltin' transvestite about?" 

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He too began sniffing at his armpit. 

"Bloody hell I stink." He said simply. 

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you _do _see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off then."

Hagrid mounted his pogo stick once more and Harry and Hermione followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view and the disgusting smell weakened. 

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "Try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy obsessed abou' personal hygiene they are."

"Are there many of _them_ in here?" Asked Hermione. 

"Oh, a fair few…keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I need 'em. They smell bloody foul though." 

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" Said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was the transvestite what's bin maltin'." 

They walked (and hopped) through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them, and that he had some clean underwear waiting for him back at the castle. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid's arm. 

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble! And your arms are _very_ muscular by the way, not like Harry's at all."

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted, ignoring Hermione's last comments. "Say on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing and bouncing away through the undergrowth and stood looking each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. 

The minutes dragged by. At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had spontaneously decided to take his robe off and run around naked whilst claiming that he was a wild, untamed, horny chicken. Neville had panicked and sent up sparks. 

"Right, we're changin' groups." Said Hagrid gruffly. "Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry Harry, but he's less likely ter take his clothes off in front of yeh an' we've gotta get this done." 

So Harry set off into the heart of the woods with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the woods, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought that the tufts of nylon hair seemed to be getting larger and thicker. He could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of the ancient oak. 

"Look - " He murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. 

Something golden was shimmering on the ground. They inched closer. 

It was a transvestite's wig all right; the whole piece lay there on the leaves; blonde, synthetic and tacky. 

Harry had taken one step towards it when a strange sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered… Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure wearing shiny red stilettos stalked towards the wig. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the wig but as it bent down to pick the hairpiece up, it realised that it was being watched. Two heartless, inhuman, eyes fixed themselves upon Harry and Malfoy. 

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!" 

Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted - so did Fang. The hooded figure rose to its full height and looked right at Harry. It came swiftly towards him - Harry couldn't move for fear. 

Then a pain pierced his head like he'd never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire - half-blinded, he staggered backwards. 

The figure drew nearer and nearer to Harry until it was standing directly above him. Harry's scar was burning so fiercely that he could barely make out what the high-pitched and extremely camp voice was saying. 

"Ooh! Harry Potter! You big silly, what are you doing out here?" The hooded figure giggled. 

"Who - who are you?" Harry groaned.

The hooded figure giggled again. "Aw, stop teasing me, you naughty boy! Hee hee! It's me, Voldie!" 

"V-Voldemort?!" Harry choked. "Lord Voldemort?" 

"There's no need to be so formal, Harry sweetie, just call me Voldie." 

At that moment, Hagrid came charging through some bushes towards Harry and Lord Voldemort. Hermione, Neville, Malfoy and Fang were with him. 

"Voldemort!" Said Hagrid, "I mighta known!"

"Oh hello Hagrid darling, I've been expecting you," One of Voldemort's red eyes winked. 

"Don't yeh darlin' me!" Said Hagrid angrily. "This whole transvestite wig thing was another one of yer schemes wasn't it Voldie?" 

"Erm, well…" Voldemort shuffled his stiletto-clad feet awkwardly. 

"Wasn't it?!" Hagrid demanded furiously. 

"Well…yeah, all right, it _was_ me. But c'mon Hagrid! Business is slow and I was hoping that if I could get you and some friends to come visit me, you might, you know, send some business my way." 

"Excuse me," Hermione spoke suddenly, "but just what is going on here?" 

"He's the ruddy Forbidden Florist!" Said Hagrid gruffly. 

"The forbidden…what?"

"The forbidden florist! Didn't yeh listen when the announcements were given at the feast, at the beginin' of the year? Professor Dumbledore said that you were ter stay away from the forbidden florist!" 

"Ooh, _Dumbledore_ said that?" Voldemort interjected suddenly. "You can't get a better advertisement than that!" 

"Oh shut up." Said Hagrid. "The point is that there _is_ no maltin' transvestite. Voldemort just left a trail of nylon hair so that we'd follow it an'…"

"And once we had come to the end of the trail, he would find us, capture us, and refuse to let us leave the woods unless we bought a bouquet of flowers." Hermione finished. 

"GAH!!!" Harry moaned. It seemed as if everyone had forgotten that he was crippled with pain. 

"Gosh! Aren't you clever?" Voldemort said, motioning his hand towards Hermione in a most flamboyant manner. "Now my little pumpkins, now that you have figured out my plan, perhaps you would be good enough to purchase something."

As he spoke, Voldemort waved his wand and was at once surrounded by an array of flowers. There were roses, orchids, lilies, and every other species of flower you could possibly imagine. Amidst all of this there appeared a small cash register and…

"Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy gasped in unison. 

"GAAAAH!!" Said Harry.

Professor Quirrell had apparated to Voldemort's side and was now changing into his florist uniform (which happened to be a floral-patterned dress). 

"Oh didn't you know?" said Voldemort. "Professor Quirrell was working for me the whole time!" 

Everyone gasped dramatically.

"Now, with the help of my lovely assistant, Professor Quirrell, I will now perform an amazing feat of flower arranging!!" Voldemort giggled. 

"WAIT!" A familiar voice made everyone turn and stare towards a tall, greasy man who had just appeared from the darkness of the forest. 

"Severus!! Sweetie-pie! You came!" Voldemort swept over to where Professor Snape stood and embraced him warmly. 

"I felt the mark burn." Snape explained simply. "It was burning stronger than ever before and I knew that it was my old master, calling me to my duties." As he said this, Snape thrust his left forearm forward and exposed a small tattoo resembling a flower. Everyone could see that it was burning bright pink. "However, I am not here to assist you, Voldemort, I am here to tell you that I now work for Dumbledore and therefore, cannot allow you to proceed with your inane practices of flower arranging." 

Voldemort's lower lip began to quiver. "You mean, you're leaving me, Severus? But we were such a team! Surely you cannot be serious?" 

"I am. Flower arranging was never my true passion. And now, I must insist that you vacate the woods immediately." 

"Fine then." Said Voldemort bitterly. "I never liked you that much anyway, bitch."

"Piss off." Snape said, brandishing his wand. 

"What if I refuse?" said Voldemort menacingly. A few more Death Eaters had begun to apparate into the woods behind him. 

"Then I will have to say…the magic words." Snape's eyes narrowed. 

Voldemort was at a loss. "Very well then Severus, you have gotton the better of me this time. I have only one request."

"What would that be?"

"Can I sing my song?" 

"Er…what?" 

"I have always wanted to star in a musical, Severus! Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top, let me sing my song!" 

"Oh all right then. Make it quick."

[The invisible band strikes up and Voldie sings]

I am Voldemort and I'm okay, 

I kill all night and I plot all day.

[Death Eaters sing]

He is Voldemort he's okay,

He kills all night and he plots all day.

[Voldemort]

I kill mudbloods, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavatory,

On Wednesdays Lucius goes shopping, and buys wizard treats for meeeeee.

[Death Eaters]

He is Voldemort and he's okay, 

He kills all night and he plots all day.

[Voldemort]

I kill mudbloods, I stalk and swoop, I like to arrange wild flowers,

I put on women's clothing, and hang around in bars.

[Death Eaters]

He is Voldemort and he's okay,

He kills all night and he plots all day.

[Voldemort]

I kill mudbloods, I wear high-heels, suspendies and a bra,

I wish I'd been a girlie, just like my dear Salazar. 

[Death Eaters]

He is Voldemort and he's okay,

He kills all night and he plots all day. 

He is Voldemort and he's okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay…

"THAT'S IT!!" Snape was furious, his face had been an odd purple colour since Voldemort had mentioned Lucius Malfoy doing his shopping. "I will not allow you to stay here any longer! For God's sake, look at what you're doing to Potter!" 

For the first time in quite a while, everyone remembered that Harry was still rolling about on the ground, clutching his head in pain. They all had guilty expressions on their faces except for Malfoy, who was grinning smugly. 

"B-b-but, no one has bought any flowers yet." Voldemort pouted. 

"Does it look as if I care?" Snape yelled, "Leave now or I'll do it! I'll say the magic words!" 

"You wouldn't _dare_! You don't have the balls, Severus! You've always been a big pussy, the weakest link…"

"BRITNEY SPEARS!!!" Snape screamed and waved his wand at Voldemort. In a flash of orange light, Voldemort emitted a sickening screech and disappeared, along with Quirrell and the other Death Eaters. "Now who's the weakest link?!" Snape laughed maniacally. "Good-bye!" 

At last, the commotion was over and the pain in Harry's scar disappeared. He rose to his feet steadily and looked about him to make sure that everything was in order.

"Well that was bloody pointless." Said Harry. 

"I agree." Said Hermione. "I don't understand, why on earth would Voldemort be a _florist_? And apart from the song, why was there absolutely no mention of him ever killing muggles and muggle-born wizards?" 

"Yeah, an' why does Draco here have such a smug look on his face?" Hagrid asked.

"I know why," said Harry. "It's because his father is a Death Eater and does Voldemort's shopping for him. That means that when Draco leaves Hogwarts, Voldemort will employ him in his florist business as a way of repayment to his father, Lucius Malfoy." 

"What?" Malfoy looked slightly puzzled for a moment. "Well, whilst all that is true, Potter, the real reason I was smiling is because your fly is undone." 

"Shit." Harry muttered as he zipped himself up. 

"Pardonnez-moi, if I may be permitted to say a few words?" A cool voice suddenly spoke. The source of the voice was apparently unknown to everyone because Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, Neville, Malfoy and Snape all immediately began to look around them, as if searching for something. 

"Ahem! Over here." Harry's eyes travelled over to where Fang sat on a pile of fallen leaves. Fang was speaking! "I say, if I may make a suggestion? Perhaps if we all went back to the beginning of the story, devised a sensible plot and redid the whole thing, there would be some chance of this all making sense, what."

"That sounds reasonable." Snape nodded. "But how would we accomplish this?" 

"I'll do it." Fang motioned a paw towards himself. "I'll re-write the entire story under the pen name: J.K Rowling, and then…"

"Why J.K Rowling?" Harry asked.

"Because my mother's name was Jellybean, my father's name was Kebab and 'Rowling' was the last thing my grandmother was heard to say whilst on her deathbed."

"Um, all right then."

"Now, I'm afraid that I'll have to make a few changes to the plot. There will no longer be any homosexuals or transvestites in the story, no one will swear or use 'Britney Spears' as a curse. Lord Voldemort will no longer be associated with flowers in any way whatsoever and Hagrid will not own a pogo stick. Also…" 

"Hold on there, dog, it's getting **very** late and these students should have been in their dormitories hours ago." Said Snape. "We should all return to the castle and discuss your ideas in further detail."

"The name is Fang if you don't mind Mister Snape, and I have no objections to this, but I think that we should inform Professor Dumbledore of tonight's revelations immediately." 

"Oh yes, Dumbledore shall at once be informed that Lord Voldemort is at large again." 

"Of course old chap, but I was referring to my spiffing story ideas. I think that I should speak with Dumbledore about my intentions; after all, I intend on making a MAJOR alteration to the plot involving the beloved Head of this noble school."

"What do you mean?" Snape raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Well, when I rewrite the story, I think that it would be best if I were to make Professor Dumbledore a…a bloke." 

Snape clicked his tongue. "It'll take a lot of persuasion before she consents to that."

"I know."

****

THE END (?)

****


	3. My Apologies (relax, it isn't another ch...

****

My Apologies

Erm, okay, so you've read it and you've discovered that it's crap? Immature? Offensive? A total disgrace to the name of 'Harry Potter'? 

It's all of those things my dear reader, and I apologise. 

Now, as they say, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. If you liked it, then a review would make me smile. If you didn't like it and are going to tell me off, please don't bother. I already know that it's crap and if you say anything nasty to me, I'll run away and hide in a corner and cry my little heart out. You don't want me to cry, do you? 

I'M SO SORRY!


	4. The Cast of 'The Forbidden Florist' - Wh...

****

The Cast of 'The Forbidden Florist'

Where Are They Now? 

It is a little known fact* that before the award-winning biographical novel 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' was published by J.K Rowling (Aka: Fang), the world of Harry Potter was, in a word, shitty.

An inadequate young writer by the name of Lady Rathe was the first to chronicle the events of Harry Potter's life, but by the time the story entitled: 'The Forbidden Florist' was published, it became apparent that she hadn't a blinkin' clue about what she was doing and was promptly relieved of her duties.

"She just couldn't understand." Says Fang mournfully. "She couldn't understand that people simply do not wish to read about a villain obsessed with flower arrangement."

This may be so, and Fang has done an excellent job of re-constructing the story's plot, but what of the characters? What have the characters to say about this sordid business? A sound recorder was placed in the broom cupboard where the characters were being stored until needed; this was the result…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Potter! Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek!"

"But Professor Sna…"

"And another ten for your knee!" 

Harry began to sulk. It wasn't _his_ fault that he had been locked in tiny broom cupboard with several other people or that he was squashed up against Professor Snape, who happened to be, quite understandably, in a very foul mood. 

"Cheer up Professor," came Hagrid's cheery voice, "at least they didn't put the centaurs in 'ere!" 

Fortunately, the centaurs had been locked in a separate broom cupboard…because they…er, smelt. 

"What I wouldn't give for a good book right now." Hermione groaned. "I'm so bored. If only I had my computer here…"

"Your…what?" Neville asked curiously.

"Computer. It's a muggle invention. It allows you to write things, draw pictures, play games, send messages, and best of all, you can log onto the internet - there's so much good literature out there! You know, there have been loads of stories written about us." 

"Oh yes, I've heard about those stories," said Harry, "what's it called? Er…slash?" 

Hermione blushed a deep shade of red. "Um, no. Its actually called '_Fanfiction_'. You only call it 'slash' if the story contains romantic or sexual scenes involving two characters of the same sex; like Professor Snape and Draco for instance."

"EXCUSE ME?!" Snape and Malfoy exclaimed simultaneously. 

"Sorry Professor, but there have been hundreds of stories written about you…having relations with everyone from Dumbledore to Mrs. Norris." Hermione informed Snape apologetically. "Not that _I_ read such things." She added at length. 

"Me?! And…_Dumbledore_?!" Snape spat. "What a load of bollocks!!" Then, calming down and suddenly blushing, Snape added: "Uh, if you'll pardon the pun." 

"Ewwwwww, not Snape!" Said Malfoy disgustedly. "He's all slimy…"

"Ten points from Slytherin, Malfoy." 

"Gosh, you can really feel the sexual tension between these two!"

"Another ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, and a detention!" 

Once the whole 'slash' conversation had concluded, a comfortable silence descended upon the dark broom cupboard; that is, until Neville spoke again.

"Um, who…who, is that?" Neville asked shakily.

"What do you mean Neville?" Asked Hermione, "Did you hear someone move outside the door?" 

"Erm, no. I mean…who is that, er, touching my um, my…ummm…" 

"Your What?" said Hermione. Harry, Snape, Malfoy and Hagrid gave her a 'thanks a bunch' look. 

"Bottom." Neville finished in a high-pitched voice. 

"Well it certainly isn't me!" Malfoy sneered, "I have better taste than that, Longbottom." 

Hagrid suddenly groaned. "Oh, crikey Neville! You're sittin' on a ruddy garden rake!" 

"Oh." Neville whispered, feeling very embarrassed. "I'm sorry." 

"Ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing the silence and forcing the rest of us to listen to your moronic ramblings." Said Snape dully. "And also for not having the sense to distinguish between a grope and a garden tool!" 

Harry, Hermione and Hagrid exchanged a troubled glance. They wanted to stand up to Snape but realised that such an action would only result in more points being taken from Gryffindor. 

"So, is anyone going to see the film they made about us?" Hermione asked pleasantly.

"I am!" Hagrid beamed proudly. "I'm goin' ter the Première in a muggle theatre in London!"

"Wow! Really? Not even Harry is going to the Première, are you Harry?" Hermione had now begun to fidget excitedly. "When is it going to be shown in cinemas…November?" 

"Yeah, November. I can hardly wait! I reckon that everyone in the country will go ter see it at least once. Whatcha think Harry?"

"I think that a certain film will forever be regarded as the greatest adaptation of a fantasy novel ever created…" 

"Yes." Snape sniffed Sardonically. "Lord of the Rings." 

Shortly after Professor Snape spoke, someone was heard to be mumbling an unlocking spell outside of the door and within seconds, the door had been flung open. Fang had come for them, it was time. 

****

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*May not be a fact. The author accepts no responsibility for any bullshit or confusion encountered whilst reading this fanfic. 

****

Author's Notes:

LOL! How crap was _that_?! Heh heh! Yeah, I know it doesn't make sense, it isn't supposed to, really. :) 

Sorry, I just had to write this thing about Harry and Co. being in a broom cupboard, otherwise I would have lost a great deal of sleep over it. I posted it here because someone told me it was funny. **Shrug**

Ps: I LOVE YOU SNAPEY!!!

K, I'm done. ^_^ 


	5. Lady Rathe's 'Top Five' (Unrelated & Poi...

****

Lady Rathe's 'Top five' 

This is just a random piece of crap I wanted to share but didn't quite know where to post it, so I'm placing it here as a kind of 'extra' for my 'Forbidden Florist' story.

This is my 'Top Five' list of the stupidest things I have heard people say whilst watching 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' at the cinema. Please note whilst reading that EVERY speaker was an adult. Oy vay!

****

5. "Wasn't it nice of Hedwig to adopt Norbert?"

[I can forgive this one, I think.]

****

4. "Is that Harry?"

[Said after Dumbledore says: "Good luck, Harry Potter" and the lightening-shaped scar comes into view at the beginning of the film]

****

3. "Is this Lord of the Rings?"

[The guy had forgotten which film he was watching]

****

2. "Oh look, it's Christmas!" 

[Said whilst Hagrid drags a Christmas tree through the snow, towards the castle. Nothing gets past these people, eh?]

****

1. "Is there a book about this?"

**Tears hair out** I almost cried when I heard this. :( Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!


End file.
